Under Cover
by HawkMoth
Summary: Ozzy goes under cover to find out Thrax's big plans for the City of Frank, but he gets drawn in a little too far. One Shot. Completed. Yaoi. Rated M.
Thrax bounced the DNA chain in his hand, feeling its weight. A toothy grin crept onto the virus's face as he circled the table. The feeling of his pending victory filled him with pride and a kind of excitement that was indescribable. He placed a hand on the table heavily and took a look around. The room was cramped and dark, barely big enough for the long table, let alone the group of germs and bacteria who sat before him. Under his claws the table pulsed from the vibrations of the club just beyond the door behind him. The whole room had a low rumble from the continuous bass of the music, muffled voices of the crowd and the swollen blood vessels in the walls working overtime. The seedy club had plenty clientele perfect for the plans he had in mind for the City of Frank.

With a charismatic laugh Thrax pushed back a purple dreadlock out of his face. The collection of germs and bacteria assembled in the dirty backroom hung on his every word, their eagerness for destruction and fame grew as he laid out his master plan. He spoke in simple terms, keeping some important details on a need to know basis. Despite that however, the organisms were pulled into his ambition, either out of mutual desires or in fear. Thrax showed off the DNA chain as he spoke.

"I'll take him down in 48 hours. Get my own chapter in the medical books!" He cried with a wide, menacing smile. The group responded positively. They all grinned and nudges at one another. Thrax beamed with pride. His plan was all coming together.

From down the table, off on his left was a small mutter amongst the approving cheers.

"Excuse me. I got one more question here. Could a white blood cell do anything to stop this evil plan? You know, hypothetically speaking, that is."

The table fell into an instant silence. Thrax narrowed his eyes at the guy who spoke. Half hidden behind another germ was a cell. No one seemed to have noticed this fact, but Thrax was not fooled. On first glance he could tell this guy was no germ. Thrax eyed him closely, watching him shift and rub at his face as if to check the placement of his facial features, then try to pass it off as just rubbing his goatee. Cluing in almost immediately, Thrax proceeded to round the table. Their meeting had been infiltrated after all, by none other than an immunity cell.

The cell nervously shifted in his chair. He had a light blue hue to his smooth membrane. The current modification to his body was distracting enough to hide what he really was, to everyone else in the room anyway. Thrax rested a forearm over the cell's shoulder and leant down close to his ear. The cell looked at him with a large single eye. A lock of his light blue hair falling between them.

"Look baby," Thrax breathed threateningly. It made the cell try to move away, finding Thrax's breath too hot on his neck. "We're so far along here that no one can stop it. And if I find a cell with that kind of thing in mind, or if anyone here gets the bright idea of leaking this to the cops, you're dead. If I have reason to suspect any of you, for any reason, at any time, you're dead. If you look at me wrong, I will kill you where you stand! Do I make myself clear, baby?"

The cell flinched under his touch but held strong. Thrax looked at him closer, daring him to speak up again. The two locked eyes. He flexed his claw as a warning but the cell didn't back down. The little guy lifted his chin, keeping his eye on Thrax, a bold move of defiance. Thrax looked at him and found amusement in this behaviour. The guy had spunk, he had to admit that.

"Sure thing, Boss Man" The cell said.

The crowd soon dispersed, to go off on their way. Their plan to pick up again in a few hours before night fall in affect.

Ozzy blended into the crowd, sliding his way to the bar. The music held a heavy beat which made him head bob, once near the bar Ozzy took a free stool and leant back, observing the club. Germs, bacteria, and cells crowded the room tightly, drinking and rubbing up against each other in an aggressively horny sea of physical desire. He smirked. Back in the day, Ozzy came to places like this all the time. That was before he ever want to the academy. It was fun, back in the day. He had no one then. He had no one now, but back then – in a place like this – you could find someone, anyone, to touch and hold. It made you feel like a big man, having a curvy young thing draped over you, drunk or not.

Ozzy turned to face the bar and ordered a stiff drink. Drix was going to have to wait another minute or two. The virus hadn't left yet. What was he waiting for? The slimy guy behind the counter brought over his drink. Ozzy drank as he watched the door over his shoulder.

Maybe the drink was too stiff or perhaps spiked, after a few glasses Ozzy was starting to feel off. From across the club two germs left the backroom: one was tall, thin and covered in crater like bumps, the second was shorter, with a body built like a tree trunk, thick and solid. Ozzy turned away. As the germs approached Ozzy could see them clearly in the reflective surface behind the bar. He drank from his tall glass and swallowed the potent liquid. The thickly built germ placed a hand on his temporarily broadened shoulder. Ozzy looked at the hand out of the corner of his eye. The tall germ on his other side spoke for them,

"Boss wants a word wit' cha."

Ozzy downed the drink. "Yeah, lead the way," was all he said in response. As if he could say no. He got up. Ever so slightly he lost his footing due to the drink. Ozzy hoped no one noticed. He allowed them to walk him back to the room, one on either side. The whole way he was discreetly looking for Drix's position. When unable to see him, he spotted the door for a quick get-away, if the need arouse.

The door opened for them to pass through. Ozzy was nudged in first. He glanced around. The room looked just as small, even without the mass of germs. At the end of the table was Big Boss Man himself, Thrax. Leaning back in a chair, his legs were resting up on the table; boots crossed. In his hand he played with his DNA chain, slowly touching each gene stored in the chain in a meticulous fashion. On seeing them, he flung his legs over, his heavy boots making a solid thump on the floor.

The two germs left without a word. They did not seem to require an order to know what was expected of them. Ozzy looked over his shoulder to see the door shut securely, drowning out the loud music from the club. Now alone, he turned to face the virus. Thrax was eyeing him from the end of the table, a slight smile playing on his mouth. The virus stood.

He was very tall and Ozzy could tell there was a sturdy, well-toned body under that long black trench coat he wore. Ozzy looked up his body at the strong and angular face, long with a defined jaw line. The virus did not look happy. Ozzy saw the yellow of this eyes and shuffled back a half step. The drink was rushing to his head and common sense was not his friend.

"First of all, I know you are no germ," Thrax spoke in a mocking know-it-all tone of voice. "You're a cell."

"I-no, bull. I'm…" Ozzy tried to argue, but Thrax just brushed it off, walking closer.

"You're a cell. You can either drop the half assed membrane modification, or I can make you."

Thrax flexed his killer claw toward Ozzy's face. The cell stiffened, clearly intimidated. Thrax lent down to meet his eye. He was waiting patiently. Ozzy was found out. There was little point in keeping up the charade. His mind reeled trying to figure out what to do, why he was being left alive so long, and what Thrax will do to him later. Ozzy came up with nothing, so he swallowed nervously. He then allowed the disguise to fall away.

So, Ozzy stood before him, a stern not-to-be-fucked-with look on his face. Thin lips, pursed, he exhaled slowly. Thrax looked down at him curiously. The cell was anything but threatening. He had a cute baby face, round with big eyes. But while short and thin, he did however look like he could hold his own in a fight. He fixed his jacket nervously, giving Thrax a quick peek of a thin but tight chest. It also provided him with a glimpse of the cell's FPD badge clipped onto the inside pocket.

Thrax showed off his teeth. "What's your name immunity cell?" He asked. For a second there was no answer and it made him irritated. "Name, now. Don't screw with me, baby."

Ozzy stood up tall, not taking shit from anyone. "Jones," he stated with pride. "Osmosis Jones. You got a name virus?"

Thrax would have sliced anyone else in half for being so mouthy, but this cell had guts. He liked it.

"You can call me Big Daddy Thrax, baby."

"Osmosis," Ozzy corrected quickly.

"You really want to talk back to me?" Thrax grabbed him by his jacket, giving him a forceful tug closer. Ozzy threw out his arm to catch himself. His forearm came up roughly to brace himself on Thrax's chest. It was as solid as it looked. He looked at his chest. Ozzy could feel the heat coming off his body, it was almost incising, as if he found the idea of that body attractive.

"What ya gonna do?" Ozzy challenged drunkenly.

Thrax could see the darkening blue in the cell's face and the rapid eye movement. "I see you couldn't resist a drink or two. What's the matter, can't hold a little _liquor puris_?"

"I can handle anything!" Ozzy pushed away from Thrax the best he could, almost falling over backwards. He mentally slapped himself for acting so drunk. He was supposed to be bad ass under cover and he was blowing it. "I'm here cuz you need the help with this little plan. I'm amazing-"

Thrax wasn't listening to his blabbering. It was so forced, drunken, and a terrible lie. He knew he was a scab, but probably not sent by the police. Thrax let go of him, let him talk.

Ozzy made wild dramatic gestures with his hands. He was doing his best to sound bad ass and not drunk, as he offered up his story. Mouth flapping, he told Thrax how he was this corrupt cops, has been for years, selling out the cops every which way to germs and the like, trying to get a head, getting what he deserved in life, and to get the hell out of Frank. He offered up names, secrets, back doors, anything he could want, but of course Ozzy knew none. But Thrax just continued to stare at him, it made Ozzy nervous. He fidgeted under the yellow eyed gaze, feeling hot without the virus having to ben close. The heat, the scent of the virus, a musty and almost metallic scent like blood, it was all kind of contagious.

Thrax mulled it over in his head. He knew the cell wasn't a real dirty cop and probably wouldn't have the heart to betray his friends, but the help could prove to be beneficial. For now, Thrax felt it best to not let on that he knew of the situation and use him as seen fit.

He looked him up and down, finding him oddly familiar. Thrax felt as if they had crossed paths before. He crossed his arms. They had indeed, in the nose, at the damn. He had also seen him in the papers regarding that whole incident. There had been a picture or the cold pill with the mayor, and Ozzy shoved into the background. They had referred to him as 'the shamed cop', and said he was 'lucky to still have his badge, let alone allowed back out on the streets'. Well, this was a pleasant surprise. He smirked.

"Alright, shut up," Thrax barked, interrupting Ozzy's story. He had not been listening at all to the cell's lunacy. However, the cell, what's-his-name, only slowed down his ranting slightly. This was instantly irritating for Thrax. The virus craved control, to concur, to possess, and have all organisms live in fear of his very name. To have someone ignore him was infuriating.

"-cuz ya know, I know things here," he said. "I can get you guys in anywhere, in a snap."

"Don't you ignore me, baby!" Thrax growled and reached out. He seized the cell by his shirt and hurled him around into the table. Ozzy sailed over the top of the table and slid along the surface on his back. In seconds Thrax leapt onto the table and before Ozzy could catch a breath, the virus was kneeling on him, knees coming down to dig into his legs. Ozzy pushed himself up onto his elbow, ignoring the pain in his legs. He was grabbed by his jacket again and brought face to face with the virus. He stared into his eyes.

"I told you to shut up," Thrax said in a rough, hostile voice. "You do as I say. I am your boss now! You will obey me!"

Ozzy nodded, fear taking over him. He forgot about everything but the two of them there on the table.

"Good," Thrax continued. "Look baby, if you want in you are going to have to learn to do as you're told and not ask any questions. You have not proven that you're worth shit here and until you do, you will sit, roll over, and beg like a good dog. And if you question my orders again, I will beat you to the brink of death before boiling you alive!"

Ozzy swallowed, knowing it wasn't a threat but a promise. He nodded quickly. Thrax smiled and exhaled on his face. It was warm and made Ozzy's head rush. The grip on his jacket didn't loosen, despite his cooperation. One hand behind him, propping himself up, Ozzy brought his other up to grab Thrax's wrist. It was a strange reaction to the situation. He was trying to get away and balance himself all at once. Ozzy felt the virus' flesh, it was rough and thick under his fingers. It was powerful and alluring.

"So, Jones," Thrax started after a few seconds of silent. He relished in the cell's intimidated state, finding it physically gratifying. "You think you can handle rolling with the big boys? I run a touch crew and don't tolerate weak links in my chain of command. You cross me and you're dead. Now, are you willing to prove your worth, baby?"

"I'm in," Ozzy was able to say. "I can do it."

"Eager. I like that."

Thrax smiled and looked down at Ozzy's body, intentionally giving the cell all kind of perverted ideas, because he wanted them on the same page when it came to that. Slowly, Thrax got up off the table and straightened his coat and dreads. Regaining composure, reluctantly because the virus wanted nothing more in that moment than to tear the cell's clothes from his body. Thrax cracked his neck and turned to go.

Ozzy scrambled off the table after him but was stopped by Thrax's long claw being pointed at his head.

"Now, now, baby," He started. "It'll have to wait. Now get lost. Big Daddy will come find you when I need you. Till then, remember what I told you. Cuz I'd hate to have to kill ya so soon."

After that, he left, disappearing into the crowded club. Ozzy was left to stand alone in the back room, dumbfounded. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It worked? Did it really work? Speechless and light headed Ozzy made his way out into the club toward the front doors. He looked around for Drix but for some reason couldn't find the large, blatantly obvious cold pill anywhere. A passerby grabbed him by the shoulder and poured booze in his face, wanting him to party with them. Ozzy coughed and shoved them away. Fuck Drix, they would meet up later. Ozzy booked it for the door and got out into some fresh air.

Ears buzzing, eyes blurry and wanting to crawl into a corner and die, he drug his feet back to his car which was parted a few buildings down in the alleyway. He fell into the driver's side seat. Exhausted and happy to be alone, he rubbed his face slowly. He took a long breath, ears still ringing from the loud music. It made the silent car feel like a vacuum. The drinks were still getting to him. So much so that he was still trying to blink away the blurred vision. He ruffled his hair in frustration and let out a long audible sigh.

After another moment of silent he did it again. It was half way between a sigh and a yell. It was hard on his ears but it didn't matter. Ozzy was passed frustrated. He was angry, with himself, with Thrax, with Drix, with his life. He cried out again and flung his hand out. He beat his palm against the steering wheel over and over. This carried on for a good minute or two. After all the frustration was let out, he crashed emotionally and physically. Ozzy slumped over the steering wheel. Head resting on the wheel, hands coming up to claps behind his neck. Ozzy closed his eyes, lightly sighing.

He could feel the heat on his membrane still. The strong, rough touch of the virus felt imprinted on his body. If it were possible, he could still feel him under his fingers, and that breathe on his face. Why was he feeling this way? He felt like he was going crazy. Was he actually crazy? Was he infected through his touch? Or was he…attracted to him?

Ozzy closed his eyes tightly trying to block out all these uneasy feelings. But the harder he tries, the more he could feel him there. He groaned.

What woke him from his thoughts was the car tilting on its shocks. He looked over out of the corner of his eye. Drix was shoving himself into the passenger side of the car. Ozzy lifted his head and sat back.

"What took you so long? Ozzy asked tapping his fingers against the wheel.

"I was looking for you," Drix did not sound impressed with him in the least. "You were supposed to meet me inside. When all those germs came out I was looking for you. Where were you? What happened? We are supposed to be working together on this, Jones."

"I was looking for you too!" Ozzy snapped. He couldn't help it. "For someone who's huge and bright ass red, you did a good job at hiding on me. I got in just fine, thanks for asking. I think they bought it enough. I was invited back later for something their planning."

"This is ridiculous. We should have handled them then and there. We could have called for backup right then and there and had the whole place shut down. The virus would be behind bars right now."

"No Drips, he wouldn't be!"

"For the millionth time, it's Drix."

"I don't fucking care! The point is, he isn't stupid!" Ozzy rubbed his face and blinked rapidly. "He knows what he's doing. If we had called for backup, he would have blown the place and left everyone there for dead. You don't know how this shit works."

"And you do?" Drix looked him over and sized him up as being mildly intoxicated. "Are you sure you are alright to drive, Jones? In your current state-"

"Just shut up."

Ozzy said nothing further on the matter. He started the car. He could tell Drix was more concerned for his own safety than Ozzy's. He ignored Drix's further lecturing over the dangers of driving while drunk and slowly pulled the car out of the alleyway. He made his way out of the area and onto the freeway in no time. In his state he was a distracted driver, weaving in and out of traffic. The faster they went the more Drix nagged about his driving. But by this point Ozzy wasn't necessarily driving drunk, he was drinking angry. Thrax's voice was ringing in his head. The deep, angry tone in his head was hard to ignore.

" _You think you can handle rolling with the big boys?"_

" _Big Daddy will come find you when I need you."_

" _Baby."_

Ozzy scoffed. "Baby…" He said, not noticing it. "I'm not a baby…fuck… not your baby. Jack ass…"

Drix turned toward him, thinking Ozzy was talking to him. He gave him a strange look. "I didn't call you a baby. You are acting childish, yes but I did not say it."

"Huh?" Ozzy glanced his way. "No, not you, Thrax."

"That virus?"

"Yeah…Thrax…"

Ozzy swerved. Drix grabbed for the dash board. "Jones, pull over. You are drunk and are going to get us both killed. You need drive the speed limit or pull over. Don't make me take you in for impaired driving. I am not afraid to haul you in, partners or not. Well, reluctant partners. You were not my first choice and I know I am not yours. You are looking for a career boost after your little slip… I would have at least requested someone who was more systematic, or at least followed the Chief's orders. You just make up your own rules and run off like you're in charge-"

Ozzy cut off another driver and immediately pulled over. "Alright, Pill Boy," He barked. "You wanna be that way fine! You wanna go do things 'by the label', be my guest! Get out of my car! Follow your instructions. I'll do things my way, without your help!"

"Jones, you are going down a very dangerous path," Drix warned before getting out of the car. Ozzy drove off on him, leaving him on the sidewalk to do as he pleased. Angry at Drix, himself and with everything going on, Ozzy sped up well over the speed limit and took a major artery highway out of the central city.

After enjoying the quiet, he managed to calm down. As he did so, he could feel his body crash. So, admitting defeat, Ozzy returned home.

He shut the door by falling back against it. Swearing under his breath he took off his jacket and tossed it onto the floor at his feet. The apartment as small, located in a cheap neighbourhood nestled in Frank's lower back fat. It wasn't the best building but it was what he could afford. Small, the place was almost too small for the minimal furniture Ozzy owned. He shuffled over in the dark to the couch and took a seat. Turning on the television he leant forward, resting his elbows on top of his knees.

Ozzy scrunched his brow. On the television was a news coverage of Drix and his efforts to fight off the cold symptoms recently threating the City of Frank, guaranteeing the mayor's plans for the Buffalo trip. Ozzy scoffed.

"Oh yeah, big man," he said to himself. "Give him all the credit. I'm the glorified cab driver. Fuck you, Drips…"

He turned off the television and tossed the remote. It loudly hit the side of the coffee table and landed on the floor.

"None of them know what's going on here. None of them care… They deserve it…"

Ozzy got up off the couch. He shuffled through the dark apartment to the kitchen. It was just one or two steps really. The small window by the sink let in just enough light for him to see what he was doing. He took out a bottle from the fridge, a bottle of booze. He popped the top and took a long drink. After that he took a long, self-soothing breath. He found himself hating everyone in the broken down city. It was so useless for him to try. Maybe he should give up and go along with Thrax for real. At a loss, he put the bottle on the counter.

"Damn it…" He said. "I need a shower… I stink."

He left the bottle where it sat and went to the bathroom. Turning the water on Ozzy let the water heat up. He waited until the water was steaming to remove his clothes. They dropped to the floor in a pile. As he stepped into the shower, the heat jogged his memory is the worst way. The hot water, the steam, it made his body tingle. He let his hand graze his own chest, finger tips scratching over his membrane just a bit. He thought of Thrax.

Ozzy leant back on the shower wall. The water hit his shoulder and ran down his back. He sighed, almost moaned into the feeling. The every so slight pain sent jolts of pleasure through him. It felt disturbing, but so good at the same time. He turned the heat up a little more, liking how it made his membrane prickle and turn a darker shade of blue.

In his life, he'd been around with a few cells, always women, and he was always in control. The idea of having the situation reversed was new, strange, but felt so good. What would it be like to have Thrax touch him in any other way than in violence? He had grabbed but hadn't out right hurt him. Ozzy imagined he was not a gentle guy in any way, so his grip would be tight and rough. The large hands of the virus, grabbing, tugging, scraping at his body.

Ozzy moaned. One of his hands had scratched its way down to his exposed lower half. He was finding pleasure in the mild abuse of his skin. His hand brushed against his surprising hard erection. A wave of disgust settled into him, making him feel like a cheap whore. It twisted in his stomach making him feel sick. But he let his hand grab himself and moved roughly, tugging fast and tight around the organ.

Would it feel this way to have the virus touch him? He had put it in Ozzy's mind earlier and it wouldn't leave him alone. The virus was large, dominating and strong. Would he press him against the wall to take him from behind, grabbing him by the hair or neck to hold him down? Ozzy let out a loud whimper of pleasure.

The disgust he felt from fantasizing about a virus made him harder. Thrax was dangerous and sexy in his own way. Ozzy had to admit it. Perhaps Ozzy was crazy, or maybe he found being dominated a turn on, whatever it was he couldn't help but touch himself and think of the most degrading things imaginable with Thrax at the helm. Ozzy had felt his body through his clothes and knew that he had a broad chest, strong, and muscular. It would be hot to the touch. Was it a rough texture like his wrist?

Ozzy threw himself back against the wall. One hand pumping faster, he let the other dig into his inner thigh to cause just enough pain to send his mind spinning. He hated himself for being so turned on, but the self-loathing was just more fuel for his sick imagination. In his mind he conjured up images of Thrax, naked, pinning him down as he pounded into him with a rough, thick cock. His strong hands grabbing and scratching, maybe slapping him. Fuck, he was a sucker for punishment.

He came all over his hand, almost slipping in the shower. The thick white cum coated his hand and thigh. Ozzy cursed under his breath and turned the temperature down to wash up. He stood under the water riding out the head spin, enjoying how relaxed he now felt. Unable to stay in there forever, Ozzy quickly cleaned up and got out of the shower.

Ozzy left the bathroom, toweling off his hair. Dressed in only his pants, he wandered back into the living room. It was lit in a reddish glow from the coupled effect of the television screen and the billboard outside his window. He scrunched his brow. He never opened those curtains, and the television was off when he left. Confused, he closed the curtains. He looked over his shoulder at the television.

"I…" He commented quietly. "Turned you off…"

"Yes, you did."

Ozzy spun around, hearing the deep voice coming from the kitchen. He took a ready-to-kick-ass fighting stance, towel falling onto the floor. From the kitchen stepped Thrax. He looked so casual standing there, as if this was his apartment. A glass in his hand, he looked at Ozzy. He took a sip and went to sit on the couch. The silence between them was filled by the news coverage on the TV. Watching him closely, Ozzy relaxed and stood normally.

Thrax made himself comfortable, crossing his legs and taking a slow sip from the glass. He tossed a dreadlock out of his face.

"I had to entertain myself somehow while you were showering," he said calmly. "Though, I should have joined you."

The comment made Ozzy stare for a moment, feeling that Thrax knew what he was doing in there, and why. He had not expected Thrax to say it though. Ozzy pulled a face to display mild disgust and shook his head.

"I….eh…wha…" He tried to say.

Thrax paid him no mind. "Viruses don't care about gender like you monogamist cells do. We have many mate, cells, bacteria, viruses… what's the difference?"

"What…I'm a guy!" Ozzy said shuffling back from him.

"So? I could care less. Jones, you're going to trip. Personally, I breed with whoever I wish. The fact that you are male is trivial-! …I told you."

Ozzy had moved back too far and had tripped over the cable to the television. He fell face first onto the carpeted floor. It hurt momentarily. He groaned and went to push himself up but two hands strongly shoved him down. Ozzy yelped in surprise. The air was pushed out of him when he once again face planted into the floor. He pushed back trying to fight.

Thrax knelt and straddled Ozzy from behind. Hands on his shoulders he held him in place, making the efforts of the cell pointless. He watched him though, finding his spunk enduring. Thrax pushed harder on him, forcing his shoulders awkwardly into the floor. Ozzy shouted in pain. A wave of satisfaction came over Thrax hearing him yell. He smiled, feeling Ozzy's muscle tense. Thrax let out a shaky breath which unintentionally came out as a moan. The sheer animalistic power he held over the cell was intoxicating. Thrax shifted and pressed himself into Ozzy's lower back.

"Feel it, Jones?" Thrax growled, grinding his clothes erection into his back. "I could have you if I wanted."

Ozzy moved, finding pleasure in the pain and wanting to hide his own lower half. He was trying to tell himself that it didn't feel good. Thrax was a crazy-ass murderer. Being held down and treated like scum, like this, it was degrading and perverted. Ozzy however bit his lip and tried not to think about it. He shook his head in protest.

"I'd love to hold you down and wail on you, baby," Thrax stroked his claws over his smooth bare shoulder. "Honestly, you're my type. But it is going to have to wait, we have a job to do."

Thrax groaned, knowing his arousal would go unsatisfied for now. He moved off the cell and got up. For a moment the virus composed his desire and ignored the cell completely. He returned to his spot on the couch and picked up his drink.

Ozzy, took a few quick breaths and pushed himself up. He sat on the floor, on leg pulled up and the other curled around in the front. It hid his small erection from view. Ozzy felt extremely disgusted with himself for being in such a state, to be so easily turned on. This had never happened to him before. He looked at Thrax, a defiant frown on his face. It made the virus smirk. Their staring contest lasted another minute. Thrax set the glass aside.

"So, the City of Frank thinks you are the biggest fuck up to ever exist," he said offhandedly.

Ozzy looked away, ashamed of this fact. He had always put Frank first and this was his thanks. Would it be so wrong to let the world burn? They deserved it after all. At least, he was starting to believe it was true. Thrax continued,

"They don't value you. Your career is ruined beyond repair… Have you tried ratting me out yet? No one trusts or believes anything you say. You are a joke to them, Jones."

"I get it! You don't have to tell me!" Ozzy yelled, not afraid of the consequence. He was quickly punished, having the glass and the remainder of Thrax's drink whipped at him. It struck him in the shoulder hard. The glass broke against the floor. Ozzy shouted and held his arm.

"Never! Never raise your voice at me, baby!" Thrax barked back. "Now get dressed. I have somewhere to be tonight and you are coming along. You need to learn the ropes if you are going to be on my team. You will watch, learn, and shut the hell up."

Ozzy nodded and moved to get up.

"Wear something sexy for me, baby."

The cell did not answer. He moved to his bedroom and grabbed a long sleeve black shirt and the closest jacket to him, all brown. It kept him covered, the complete opposite of what Thrax wanted probably but Ozzy didn't know what the virus considered to be sexy. Once dressed, the two left together to pick up the rest of Thrax's gang. For the first time in Ozzy's charade, he stopped pretending and willingly went along with the plan.

Their first stop in Thrax's plan of destruction was gaining a new associate. As Thrax put it, he was going to go see an old friend. This was odd, in Ozzy's opinion. Viruses were aware of each other's existences, apparently. Unlike cells who don't travel, viruses and the like had large family trees and could make acquaintance over time. Thrax had seen the signs of Nicotine the second he entered Frank and had him in mind to help this whole time.

Nicotine wasn't exactly a proactive drug. He was a constant nuisance for the FPD but no one could ever get close to him, or dared to try. Occasionally Nicotine would screw around with Frank's blood pressure, and daily he'd make the adrenaline hormones go ballistic, but other than his addictive symptoms, Nicotine spent his life chilling.

Unlike Thrax, Nicotine was a lazy guy. He found a home in Frank's left lung and rarely felt the need to leave his neighbourhood. The lower side of Left Lung was a seedy neighbourhood now that he settled down. It was full of bacteria and the occasional virus, like Bronchitis. The only cells that were there were not there by choice. They were all residences who had been infected and become addicted to Nicotine.

The lower lung was a decrepit place to be in. It was dark and polluted with smog from Nicotine's presence. There was no upkeep on the neighbourhood leaving it to break apart and become almost unlivable. The streets were covered in Nicotine's tar, which was black and thick – a cell could get stuck and die there if he wasn't careful.

The gang of germs, lead by Thrax himself, made their way down into the midst of Nicotine's neighbourhood. Following at the back of the group was Ozzy. He looked so out of place with the group, being the only T-cell and all. Ozzy quickly side stepped a glob of tar in the alley, while the rest of them walked right through it.

"Why are we in Nicotine's hood?" Ozzy dared to ask. Usually Thrax would have backhanded anyone who had asked such a stupid question out of term but he let it slip this time. "I mean, he's a bad guy in these parts but he's lazy as spit. What's he going to do?"

"Jones, speak up again and I'll throttle you. I'm here to propose a deal with the guy. You are here to watch and learn. My boys here know their role. You still need to find your place." Thrax looked over his shoulder at the smaller male and watched the lengths he was going to, to avoid walking through tar and infected tissue. He rolled his eyes but still found himself amused by Ozzy's egotistical and mildly childish antics.

"Baby, don't worry," Thrax said in a special sugar coated voice. "If you're a good boy, Daddy will get you new shoes."

This sufficiently silenced the cell and caused Thrax to smirk in satisfaction. Ozzy watched the virus for a moment and saw the smile. He made a face in response which showed his disapproval. No one said another word until they reached their destination.

They made their way into a decrepit office building. The walls were coated in tar and gunk. The only light was from the odd window and a streak of white light coming from under a door at the end of the hall. Thrax straightened out his coat before stepping back and forcefully kicking in the door. They gave way and clattered loudly against the walls. The virus strolled into the office, looking around at his surroundings. His boys filing in behind him.

The room wasn't very bright, light by a few desk lamps. Infected cells were lounging on couches on either wall. Their blue membranes now grey. They moved sluggishly, turning toward them in confusion. Smoke wafted everywhere but never came to settle. At the back, behind a large desk, a chair spun around.

Nicotine was a lanky drug, tall and extremely skinny. His long fingers brushed back his thin, dark grey hair out of his sunken in eyes. His skin was an ash off white colour, which matched his white cloudy eyes – as if he had cataracts. The drug did not look particularly threatening, laying about in oversized loungewear. But he was a force you did not want to face, if you knew anything about him. Nicotine breathed out a puff of smoke which just naturally formed from within him.

"Good God," he said, sounding half way between uninterested and annoyed. "Thrax, The Red Death, in my office? I'm blessed. How long as it been? Four, Five years?"

"Six actually," Thrax strolled up to his desk. "But that's not important. I'm not here for a visit."

Nicotine looked him over. It certainly didn't look like a visit, from the number of germs now standing around his office. He wasn't a very social drug, not a fan of crowds. He smiled at them anyhow, showing off his yellow teeth and black receding gum line. The second he saw Ozzy though his smile fell. Nicotine stood up, equalling Thrax in height, if not a fraction taller.

"Why is there a T-cell in my office?" He placed his hands on the desk. Thrax mimicked his action, establishing threat by showing off his claws.

"Ignore him," Thrax ordered, seemingly angry someone looked at Ozzy. "He is not important. However, you and I have some business to discuss."

"Do we?" And what could that possibly be, Virus?"

"I'm taking down this body in less than 42 hours now. You can either, join up and cruise on out of here or burn with the rest of them."

Nicotine backed up and took up his seat again. He made himself comfortable, thinking about the offer. Admittedly he looked impressed with Thrax. Now, being a drug, he was selfish and didn't like sharing his space with others, but he valued his own life over anything and everything. So, he considered the threat for a moment. Nicotine put his bare feet up on the desk, leaning back in the chair.

"Well, what an offer…" He finally said. He cleared his throat and spat a large glop of tar onto the floor. "What's in it for me?"

"Besides your life?"

"Yes, besides my life. Before I join up, I want to know the plan and what's in it for me. Cuz I could just up and leave now."

Thrax snarled and explained the plan in simple terms for the lazy ass drug. He outlined how Nicotine could help them out as a distraction. Also, as having been there before, as information about backways into the brain. If he said no, Thrax honestly wouldn't care. He did however value information regarding his own plan. In short, he was a determined virus.

"After that," he explained. "Jones here will walk right into the brain and let us in, discreetly."

"I'm going to what?" Ozzy pipped up, not enjoying being treated like cannon fodder. Thrax shot him a look to get him to shut up, but he didn't listen. "When were you going to tell me this?"

"Shut your yap, bitch!" Thrax barked, not appreciating being embarrassed in front of people. Thrax looked livid. He grabbed Ozzy by the front of his shirt and threw him at one of the germs. "Hallway, now!"

The lot of them pulled Ozzy out into the hall. The addicted cells off to either side of them scurried out of the room in fear as well, leaving the two alfa males to chat. Once the doors were firmly closed, Thrax turned back to Nicotine who looked very entertained by the display. Nicotine sat up, resting his elbows on the desk. He looked at Thrax for a while, noting his sudden change in demeanour: the increased breathing, the glow in his eyes, the clenched jaw. He was angry indeed, and yet the cell lived.

"Mmm…" Nicotine smirked. "He's got spirit. I like him. I can see you do too."

"What?!" Thrax bellowed.

"You would have sliced up anyone else for talking to you like that. Is he your play thing or something?"

He said nothing, not confirming or denying the question.

"I see," Nicotine knew they weren't like that. He was a drug, he knew addiction and what it looked like in others. Thrax was addicted to dominance, addicted to being in control. Ozzy's little act of disobedience made Thrax crave to discipline the cell. Thrax composed himself and shook off the thought and need. Nicotine could see it all go through him. "I know what I want in exchange."

"And what could that possibly be?" Thrax asked, irritated.

"I want to play with the cell for a while."

Thrax twitched, suddenly feeling very possessive. No one touches his things! Ozzy was a bothersome little cell, whom he had originally planned to doubt cross and leave for dead, but he was his to screw with, not Nicotine's. He looked hard at the drug, ready to say no and even boil him alive right then and there. Nicotine was watching him, and Thrax knew he could tell it bothered him. Thrax set his jaw.

"Play?" Thrax inquired.

"You know what I mean, Thrax."

"You think I'm going to hand over one of my boys to you?"

"If you want my help. This is what I want in return. It's this or nothing." Nicotine waited patiently for an answer. Thrax gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his angry. The state he had put Thrax in was almost satisfaction enough. However, he was a perverted guy too and would thoroughly enjoy fucking around with the cell.

"I'll give you twenty minutes. After that, you are never to touch him again," Thrax finally said. Nicotine smiled.

"Twenty minutes? That's plenty of time."

"I'm sure it is, for you. I'll send him in." Thrax begrudgingly went for the door.

"Does it bother you that I'm going to fuck the guy before you?" Nicotine pushed at him further, just wanting to see him angrier.

"If you infect him or get him addicted to you, I'll kill you without a second thought," Thrax threated as he left. He stepped into the hall and closed the door. With heavy steps he walked over to Ozzy, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forcefully into an adjacent room. He kicked the door shut so they were alone in the dark.

Ozzy, unprepared for this stumbled a bit. He didn't have time to fall over though. Thrax quickly spun him around and shoved him back into the wall. He leant down into his face and barked angrily,

"You ever draw attention to yourself again with one of my associates, you will no longer have a head!"

Ozzy put his hands up on Thrax trying to keep space between them, "I didn't mean to."

"I don't care! You have no say in what goes on here, Jones! Now, this is all on you!"

"What is?"

"Nicotine is very taken with your attitude. He's gonna screw you every which way and I'm not going to stop him. Maybe this'll teach you to do as I say."

Thrax hide every iota of desire from Ozzy. He wanted to be the one to shove the cell into the floor and fuck him in every way imaginable. Now, he was letting that drug have his way with him. It was disgusting and angered the virus, because he wasn't going to be first and because someone was going to be touching Ozzy, holding, pressing into him. The thought made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

Ozzy looked horrified. His mouth open to protest but couldn't find the words for the situation. Thrax leant forward, forearm coming up to rest on the wall. His face was very close to Ozzy's. He was surprised it bothered him so much, possessive or not over his property. Lying to himself, he told himself it did not bother him and he was going to let it happen. If for no other reason than to prove it to himself that he wasn't jealous.

"I'm going to just give you one bit of advice, baby," Thrax breathed onto Ozzy's face. "Don't let him cum in you. I won't have _my baby_ infected by that drug. If you get even a little addicted to that trash, I aint keeping you."

Ozzy had to be dragged back into the office, briefly forgetting how to walk on his own. Thrax shoved him through the doors. The cell fell to his knees on the dirty carpet. He turned quickly to see the door shut behind him. Nervous now, Ozzy started to get up.

"Don't get up." Nicotine said, trying to sound sweet or at least, what he believed to be _sweet_.

Ozzy looked over at drug. He sat kneeling on the floor, waiting for him to move. Nicotine watched him for a good minute, making the cell feel very anxious. Seeing this he eventually stood up and walked over, stopping in front of Ozzy. Nicotine looked down at him and smirked. He reached down and grabbed a fist full of Ozzy's bangs with his long fingers.

"I can't have as much fun with you as I'd like. Your pimp would cut my head off if I infected you in anyway." He said giving Ozzy a good tug. Ozzy knelt up on his knees, head being forced back. He was now eye level with the drug's crotch area. "So I can't cum inside you at all. I guess I'm ok with that. It'll be almost as satisfying seeing your cute face covered in it."

Ozzy looked up at him, repulsed. This wasn't the same as being manhandled by Thrax. This was truly degrading. He was about to resist and try to get out of there, but he realized that he didn't have much of a choice. It was either go along with what was asked of him, or die. And Thrax had promised, it would not be a quick death.

Nicotine pulled him by the hair, forcing his face against his clothed pelvis. Ozzy winced. He could feel the drug's already hardening erection through his thin, loose fitting sweat pants. It was starting to poke him in the cheek as he tried to turn his face away. As if he were an animal, Nicotine started running his fingers through his short hair, petting him.

"Come on Doll Face," he coaxed. "Be a good boy and I won't have to complain to your pimp. Untie the pants and open wide. Don't you know how this works?"

Ozzy did, only in the receiving end. He had never does this before. He tried to pry his head away but Nicotine was surprisingly strong for someone so skinny. Hesitant, Ozzy places his hands on Nicotine's upper thighs. The drug smiles, enjoying the view. Slowly he unties the waist band of his sweat pants. Nervous, Ozzy swallowed. His hands were starting to shake. Nicotine continued to pet his hair and murmur little words of encouragement.

"That's it. It's ok Doll. I'll teach you how~" Nicotine teased. "Open wide."

Ozzy took a deep breath and tugged the pants down to free the drug's erection. It was long and thin like the rest of him. Nicotine moved his hips, rubbing his dick against Ozzy's face. The cell stiffened, closing eyes tight. Unwilling to open his mouth, Nicotine took hold of his self and pressed the head up against Ozzy's lips. He forced the tip in.

In response, Ozzy tried to pull away, finding the taste revolting. His skin had a natural burnt taste to it. The texture was dry and scaly, as if his skin was going to flake off in his mouth. Nicotine moved, forcing himself deeper into his mouth. Ozzy gagged, feeing Nicotine reach the back of his throat. He fisted the fabric of the sweat pants tightly. Over and over he kept gagging, not adjusting to the feeling.

"Oh yeah~" Nicotine lightly moaned. "If you want this to be over with sooner T-cell, start participating."

Ozzy peeked out of one shut eye, not knowing what to do really. He only knew what he liked in this situation. Nicotine kept moaning as he moved. Ozzy tried to loosen up his throat so it wouldn't be so uncomfortable. The drug urged him on, ordering him to do things with his tongue and mouth. Ozzy complied, rubbing his tongue along the underside of his cock. His previously dry mouth now dripping with excess saliva and thick pre-cum. Ozzy let the mixture of bodily fluid dribbled down his chin. He wasn't willing going to swallow it.

It must look sickeningly perverted to Nicotine because he reached down and smeared the thickened saliva across Ozzy's cheek. He could do this all day, however he knew Thrax was timing them to the second. Nicotine sped them up, forcing Ozzy's head down every time he thrust up into his mouth. He grunted louder. Feeling like he was going to unload, Nicotine had to force himself out of Ozzy. It was so temping to cum inside his mouth and watch him choke down his tar-like seed. However, he pulled out and came all over his face. The dark grey, thick cum splattered across Ozzy's face and up into his hair. It settled on his smooth membrane, droplets slipping off his jaw.

Nicotine smiled, showing off his gross teeth, "Oh baby, you look delicious."

Ozzy moved away the instant he was able to. He coughed and spat on the floor, hating the taste that lingered in his mouth. Nicotine laughed and pulled up his pants, retying the cord to hold them up. It must have been well timed because it was then that Thrax forced the door open. He left the gang of germs in the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him again. Nicotine casually looked at him, a little unimpressed.

"If you break down my door, you will replace it," He said.

"Fuck that," Thrax snarled. "Your time is up."

The drug shrugged and slunk back to his desk chair to sit. Thrax crossed the room, forcing himself to focus on Nicotine. There was temptation in his mind to glance at the cell but if he did, he was unsure of what he would do. Having to wait in the hallway for those twenty minutes made him see red, counting down the seconds until time was up, left to imagine what Nicotine was doing to his property, his cell, his baby. Ozzy was his property, all his, always, forever. Being possessive by nature Thrax wanted nothing more than to control and take whatever he considered to be rightfully his, and once he got it into his mind that something belonged to him, no one else could have it.

Yes, it was a recent attachment, built up through perhaps enduring amusement, wanting to make the cell suffer, or that Ozzy was something he secretly wanted in a mate. In the beginning, thinking the cell was going to rat him out first chance he got, Thrax had legitimately planned to kill him. He was going to use him until he was no longer useful, then render his head from the rest of him. But Ozzy's eagerness to talk back, his spunk, his attitude, it was so unwilling to die that Thrax found him worth something, even a small something. It showed him that he could beat the cell down and he would still bounce back. Thrax liked that. He needed that. But seeing Ozzy in a state like this, at the mercy of Nicotine, it was sickening. But he was a virus of his word, and did not slaughter the drug as he wanted to.

Ozzy coughed, catching Thrax's attention. The virus discretely stole a glance in his direction unable to help himself. Ozzy was still sitting on the floor, legs a skew, and trying to rub off Nicotine's remaining cum off onto his shirt. Ozzy's face was dark blue from embarrassment or shame, maybe both. It was then he looked up and caught the flicker of the virus's eye. He looked down immediately.

Thrax tore his eyes and focused on Nicotine.

"You can have him now. I'm done with him." Nicotine placed his feet up on the desk. "Call me when your plan goes into full affect. Until then, I'll be here."

Thrax let out a threatening growl and turned to leave. He barked over his shoulder at Ozzy who was still sitting on the floor trying to wipe off his face,

"Get your ass into gear, Jones!"

Ozzy pulled himself up, really wanting to puke. He followed behind Thrax closely. The germs filled in behind them as they left. Being close behind the virus made him feel quite secure, but now he could feel the germs watching him. They must think he's a hooker or something, instead of a valid member or the gang, being passed about like this. Technically he was not a valid member, or rather, did not join up as a valid member, but things had changed.

The gang left the lung in total silence. Thrax was in a murderous mood and no one dared speak around him, less they lose their lives. Once out of the area, he dismissed them until morning. The germs took off, not wanting to be near him when he was so angry. Ozzy hung back.

Thrax finally looked at the cell, the spirit seemed beaten out of him by whatever happened in Nicotine's office. He looked lost in thought and deaf to his surroundings. Thrax grabs him by his jacket. Ozzy jumped, coming around to what was going on. His eyes shot up at the virus who looked furious.

"Jones, get your ass home," he told him. "I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning. I'll come get you. And take a fucking shower, you are disgusting."

He pushed Ozzy away. A jealous twinge running through him. Nicotine took something from him. It was infuriating to see it all over Ozzy's face, literally. Thrax craved the control, the power, the dominance, and now something he wanted was gone. He had wanted to grab the cell by his bangs and force himself to the hilt into Ozzy's mouth. That flapping, childish mouth that never stopped talking, always asking questions. He wanted to silence him his way. Now it was taken from him because Ozzy had not followed his orders. Nicotine would fucking pay for this in the end. The drug touched what was rightfully his. The next time they met, when and where ever it would be, they were going to have a score to settle.

Thrax watched Ozzy slink away down the sidewalk and stood there long after the cell disappeared from view. Thrax turned punched a hole in to the side of a nearby car.

Ozzy didn't go home right away. Instead he wandered down the road, dragging his feet. A car alarm in the distance going off. He lifted his head a bit just to see where he was going. Where was he anyway? He looked around. Looked like the upper left side. It was a fancier part of Frank. Large expensive apartment buildings and high end shops. It took him a moment but he recognized where he was standing. He aimlessly headed toward a certain road in the area. Within a few minutes he was standing outside a well-lit building with large front steps. He had been there once or twice before, and was always kicked out by morning.

Ozzy ascended the stairs and got into the building with little hassle. This early in the morning no one was up. He made his way to the one resident he knew lived there. Apartment 412. In need of some kind of reassurance, Ozzy stared at the numbers. He took a big breath.

"Please Leah," he quietly said. "I need someone to change my mind about this."

He knocked loudly. She must be sleeping. So, he knocked again, and again until she opened the door. Leah understandably did not look happy to see him what so ever. She frown seeing it was Ozzy and went to reclose the door. Ozzy throughout his hand and held the door open. He wanted to push his way in but didn't want to alarm her or anything.

"No, Leah, please let me in," he said, desperate. "You have no idea how bad I need to talk to you."

"I don't care Osmosis!" She yelled at him. "It's late. You can tell me whatever stupid ideas you have tomorrow. Go away."

"Please, please, Leah. I'm begging you. You don't understand." He desperately tried to give her his big sad puppy eyes. It usually worked on everyone, but not this time.

Leah poked her head around the door to face him. She gave him a hard stare. "I don't care, Osmosis. Go home."

Ozzy backed up, feeling his old life shatter away. The door was quickly closed in his face and locked. He placed his hands up on the closed door, shaking all over. He could hear her on the other side turn off a light and walk away. The light padding of feet disappearing. Ozzy rested his forehead on the door.

"Leah… I'm sorry… I loved you once…" He said quietly. Deep down he knew those feelings were never returned. She had gone on a date with him only once, out of pity. At the time it meant so much to him that he didn't care. But now, it did not matter at all. It was all going to end and Ozzy was helping.

It took a while for Ozzy to make his way back to his crappy little apartment. He tripped down and immediately went to shower. Water as hot as he could get it, he scrubbed at his body until there were marks all over his membrane. He didn't stay in there long. After a minute he went and found some clean clothes, pajama pants and a t-shirt.

He collapsed on the couch, not bothering to make it to bed. He laid there quietly, staring at the wall. Eventually he drifted off to a mild slumber. A breeze blew across his forehead, bringing him around. Had he been asleep for hours or minutes? It was so hard to tell. The apartment was just becoming lit. It was barely dawn, perhaps. Ozzy turned his head and felt his cheek touch something foreign. It was rough and hot to the touch. He opened his eyes quickly and was about to jump off the couch but a hand slammed down into his chest, successfully pinning him in place, and knocking the air out of him.

He took a strangled breath in and looked wide eyed at who was leaning over him. Thrax had once again let himself in and was kneeling over him on the couch. Ozzy brought a hand up to brace himself on the virus. He felt the warm solid body and immediately began to calm down. His fingers spread out trying to feel the solid chest underneath the grey turtleneck. Thrax just looked down at him, eyes narrowed.

"That drug took something from me and I'd like it back," he said in a rough, dark voice. Not knowing what he was talking about in his sleepy state, Ozzy started defending himself. He spoke a million miles a minute trying to keep the virus from actually hurting him. He hadn't wanted to do anything with Nicotine or anyone else. He told him so. Thrax grabbed him by his t-shirt, looked at it and pushed him back onto the couch. Then, brandishing his claws he plucked a hole in the fabric and ran them up to the collar. The shirt split open with little resistance.

Ozzy clammed up. He breathed in deep, chest raising and lowering with quick breaths. Thrax watched his smooth chest expose itself from under the torn shirt. It looked very soft and in need of a few scratches. But first he knelt up, putting unwanted space between them. He took off his trench coat and place it over the armrest, never taking his eyes off the cell. Ozzy went to sit up, eyes fixed on him. He could see the toned line of Thrax's body and it was hard to look away.

"Nothing to say, Jones? I'm surprised." Thrax mocked.

"Why?" He managed to get out.

"As I said, he took something that was mine. I don't take kindly to people touching my things. I need to remind you who you belong to."

"Your things?" Ozzy sat very confused over what he was to the virus. Was he property, a bought and paid for whore, or something he cared for?

There wasn't much time to think on it however, Thrax grabbed him by the shoulders and tugged off his ripped shirt in one quick motion. Ozzy let out a little surprised gasp. He was piecing it all together in his head but it was hard to do when Thrax was lightly touching at him with his sharp claws. It was wonderfully distracting. Thrax could tell Ozzy didn't know what he was meant to do, or what he was allowed to do. His hands were raised slightly in midair, fingers eagerly wanting to touch something other than dead space. Thrax leant down again, letting his body meet Ozzy's hands.

"If what you're after is to touch me, go ahead baby," He said with a cocky smirk.

Ozzy didn't have to be told twice. Once given permission to touch the virus as he pleased, he let his hands wander over his chest and down to his abdomen trying to feel him through his turtleneck. He tugged at his shirt, if he couldn't get it off him, he wanted to slip his hands underneath. Fumbling, Ozzy threw his arms over Thrax's shoulders. The virus had his own way of doing things. Knowing exactly what he was after, his rough hands ran over Ozzy's lower body. Ozzy groaned aloud as he was grabbed and fondled through his pants. It felt so much better than he thought it would. He couldn't help but grow hard from the skilled hands rubbing at his clothed crotch.

Thrax smirked, watching the cell writhe in pleasure, pleasure he could give or take away as he saw fit. He liked to watch at first, seeing his partner's need grow until they begged for it. Sometimes he would make them wait for release, tormenting them slowly, or leaving them to try to do it on their own. But with Ozzy, he found a genuine pleasure from seeing the cell enjoy his touches. He could feel himself get aroused just from listening to him moan and start to pant. Thrax let out a low growl, pressing his body closer. The hands on his back grabbed, digging into his broad muscles. Apparently the cell liked it a little rough.

"Like that Jones?" Thrax leaned down, coming close to his face. "I can see you do."

He moved enough to tug down the cell's pants some. Ozzy was clearly enjoying it. Thrax tossed them away once off. Ozzy laid naked under the virus who just stared down at him. Feeling a bit embarrassed he started to retract his arms. Thrax grabbed his wrists tightly and pinned them down to the couch.

"Don't cover yourself!" Thrax lowered his head and hungrily bit into his shoulder. The cell stiffened, back arching. A loud yelp of painful pleasure filled the room. Thrax relished in the sensation it gave him. He licked the bite wound. "You're for me to see and enjoy. You will do as I tell you."

Ozzy, headed getting fuzzy, just nodded. He pressed up into Thrax, wanting to wrap around him. Eventually his eagerness was rewarded, Thrax moved his hips against him, showing off how hard he was too. He let go of Ozzy and sat back on his knee. Ozzy quickly went to sit up and cling to him. Two strong arms wrapped around his waist.

"Now," Thrax said in a low, pleased growl. "Be a good boy and take off my clothes. Do as you're told and please me."

Ozzy tried not to blush. Being given orders was kind of exciting and he shivered. Slowly he helped pull the turtleneck from the virus and started working on undoing his pants. The virus put a hand on his head and lightly pushed him toward his freed cock. Getting the hint Ozzy did his best to try and comply. He moved on the couch, onto his knees and lowered his head down. He took hold of Thrax's growing erection and started to lick at the long shaft. It tasted nothing like Nicotine's. Thrax's cock was rough and thick, tasting raw and a bit acidic. Ozzy shivered, feeling sharp claws comb through his hair.

Thrax leaned back on the couch and enjoyed the attention Ozzy was giving to his lower half. It wasn't too terrible either. Ozzy was enthusiastic to please. The cells head bobbed up and down as he took him deeper and deeper into his mouth. Thrax grinner, pushing him down further each time. He moaned, which just encouraged Ozzy all the more. The cell stroked at the base as his mouth and tongue worked away on the tip. Thrax gripped his hair tight and pushed him off onto the floor. It was starting to feel too good, and they didn't want to end things too early. Ozzy fell over in a heap.

Thrax was on him again in moments, looking down at him with intense lust. He grabbed him by the upper arm and tugged him closer. "Roll over, baby." He breathed. Ozzy half rolled over, half was forced face first into the floor. Hand on the back of his head, Thrax lifted Ozzy's hips. He listened to the moans and impatient whimpers coming from the cell. Ozzy moved back trying to feel him but Thrax slapped his ass hard. The cell yelped and would have moved away if able. Thrax was just enjoying the view. Ozzy had quite the nice ass. Now with a large darkening hand print on it, it made it perfect.

Thrax positioned himself at Ozzy's entrance. It didn't matter if Ozzy had never done this before, foreplay was for some other night. Thrax was not waiting. With one quick thrust, he forced his way inside.

"AAH!" Ozzy closed his eyes tight, in legitimate pain. The hand on his head pressure him further into the floor. He bit his lip trying to relax and adjust but Thrax wouldn't hold still long enough. The pain slowly passed to a dull throb and the pleasure came back in short, fast waves. He went deeper and quicker. Ozzy groaned, unable to control himself.

Thrax dug his claw into his hips, just enough to break the surface of the membrane. He snarled through clenched teeth. He felt Ozzy stiffen around him. _Done already, baby? Just can't help yourself?_ He thought to himself, amused by Ozzy's inexperience with being taken like this. He wrapped an arm around his hips and pulled him up by his hair. Ozzy fell back against the strong chest of the virus. Not for a second did Thrax fall out of rhythm with his thrusts. He continued to pound Ozzy hard.

Ozzy reached over head and touched Thrax's shoulders and sides oh his neck. Wanting to feel him in every way, he stroked his skin and found himself playing with his hair. Knowing he was close to climax Ozzy panted harder, moans getting louder. He was trying to last longer but couldn't hold it back any longer. His body shivers, hips impulsively shoving back onto Thrax's cock. Ozzy came shouting his name. Cum splattered on the floor and down the front of his thighs. He heard Thrax chuckles from behind. It didn't matter, Ozzy pushed back trying to please him too, tightening around the cock. This kept up for a little while longer as Thrax took advantage of the cell's body hard and greedily shoved as deep as he could. Ozzy craned his neck up and he breathed on his neck. Thrax shivered and gave one last thrust into him, orgasming into Ozzy. The hot seed leaked out as Thrax pulled away.

Thrax smiled, knowing that seed would infect his baby. Ozzy would absorb his virus gene and become immune to his venom over time, even sharing in his abilities. He could willing take him body hopping without worrying of the cell coagulating in the open air.

Ozzy whimpered feeling Thrax's cum inside him. He left a kiss on his jaw. His lips were the only thing he hadn't felt. Thrax paused feeling the kiss. He frowned and quickly dropped Ozzy on the floor. It wasn't anything personal really, but Thrax didn't ever kiss his mates. Sex was just sex, but a kiss was affection and only for the weak. But now, Ozzy had done it to him. It was a bizarre feeling. Ozzy looked up at him, disappointed he got thrown away. The cell got back up onto his knees, defying the virus. Thrax stared him down, daring him to do it again.

"Yes, Ozzy?" He questioned.

"What was that for?"

"Hehe, is my baby mad with me?"

"If I'm your _baby_ , why don't you kiss me?" He asked because he sensed it was an issue. If he was actually something to him, he was demanding it from him. "Prove it to me. Come on, Big Daddy Thrax."

Ozzy frown, serious about this. The virus just stared at him temporarily. Finally he grabbed him and tilted him back, pressing against the smaller body. Thrax lifted Ozzy's face. The cell's eyes were barely open, wanting to feel his lips so badly. He gave him and kissed Ozzy on the mouth. It was a firm, deep kiss. And if it had been anyone else, it was a kiss that never would have happened, but it was a kiss with Ozzy.

They pulled away from each other slowly, not quite wanting to lose the contact. Thrax lightly patted Ozzy's face, playing it off like the only reason he did it was to please his childish needs. He spoke in a mockingly affectionate tone, but it felt real:

"Time to sleep baby, we move soon and I want you rested for the long road ahead."

Thrax picked him up around the waist and walked to Ozzy's room.

Once put into effect Thrax's place moved quickly. They were coming up on the last twelve hours of his place when he gave the word to move. The gang split up into multiple directions, believing they would regroup later in the mouth, but Thrax had miss lead them all. Ozzy knew this because he was the only one to go along with Thrax in the direction of the brainstem. The germs were headed to the throat and stomach to cause more flu-like symptoms, a temporary distraction to occupy any centralized cops. Nicotine took his few loyal followers through the lungs, creating a buildup of mucous and tar. After that, his role was to open the adrenaline flood gates. Hormones running wild throughout Frank, germs and destructive tremors due to frank's uncontrollable coughing, the city would be in utter chaos. He only had to do so much to ensure a sufficient job. Once done, Nicotine held no more loyalty to Thrax than the virus had to him. He hopped on a wad of phlegm and abandoned the City of Frank while he still could.

Ozzy observed the beginning of the end. He saw the cop cars, sirens lit up heading in the opposite direction of the real threat, and then the shaking started, followed by people screaming. Guilt came over him. But there wasn't much time to dwell, Thrax gave him an empty threat to do his part and he obeyed. He stopped at the security gates to the brain. His role was very simple, just distract the guard for five seconds to let Thrax slip through. They didn't want to draw attention to the brain. The virus wanted a smooth ride out of there. So, trying to stay calm, Ozzy knocked on the window to the gate operator's booth. He flipped his badge when the window opened.

"What's going on?" Asked the security guard. "You're a copper. What's all the shaking about?"

Ozzy leant his forearm against the windowsill. "Nicotine is having more fun than he should be. We have plenty of guys taking care of it. I'm just here to make sure the hormone gates get closed."

"Hey aren't you that cop who-"

"Yeah," Ozzy interrupted. He sounded way more irritated than he meant to but he was so tired of people treating him like he was a failure. "I'm just here to make sure brain cells do their job. Now, let me do mine, k buddy?"

The guard must have felt he crossed a line or something because he nodded. He buzzed him in and the gate opened. Ozzy didn't move for a moment. He had to buy Thrax just enough time to slip around. It would only have to be a minute, tops. He rubbed his chin.

"Sorry…" He said. The security guard looked at him. "I snapped at you… little rude."

"No problem. Happens every day in this job."

Ozzy gave a little chuckle over the irony. He patted the side of the booth. "Well, today you got an apology for everyone else's bitching. It won't happen again."

"Thanks buddy."

Ozzy walked through the gates and up to the door to the brain. He strolled in, flashing his badge to anyone who looked at him twice. He could be smooth under pressure when he wanted to be. All the cells were so busy trying to figure out what was going on everywhere else that no one noticed him duck down the hall toward the hypothalamus. He was almost there when he heard an extra pair of feet join his in the echoing hallway. They were heavy set and coming up quick. Ozzy stopped at the door and looked back.

Thrax was right behind him, so close he could feel his body heat. The virus smiled triumphantly, loving it when a plan came together so beautifully. He placed a hand on Ozzy's lower back, the other on the door.

"Good boy," he cooed. "You did a good job back there. I'll have to reward you when we get out of this dump."

He pushed the door open and rushed Ozzy in side. Thrax pocketed his shades and walked up to the hypothalamus. He ran a hand over the barrier, watching the light inside swirl and pop. Ozzy watched from a safe distance.

The virus reared his hand back, building momentum. The barrier gave way under the force of his claws. It shattered and sent little pieces flying. Thrax took a little time to pick which gene he wanted to add to his collection. Ozzy moved forward, watching the chain of nuclei spin in a consistent, smooth manner. He lightly touched Thrax's coat, letting him know he was there.

"Lovely aren't they, Jones?" Thrax asked. "So many of them too, all with their own unique purpose. Ah~ Come 'er baby, come to Daddy."

Thrax plucked a large nuclei out of the chain and transferred it to the DNA cord around his wrist. He quickly turned and lifted the side of his coat that Ozzy was on. As the chain broke apart, neural electricity misfired, sending sparks flying through the air. He looked down at Ozzy, who was ducking under his arm.

"You're safe, baby, I got you." He teased, but honestly meant it. One little spark and Ozzy would have gone up in flames. The cell knew it too. However, it didn't stop him from replying with attitude.

"I would have been fine."

"You would have been dead."

It didn't matter. Knowing that they would be caught if they stayed much longer, Thrax picked up Ozzy without warning. He held him close, protecting him from any more sparks, shielding him with his own body. Ozzy latched onto him, arms encircling his neck.

"I beat my record and won me a prize," he chuckled with a hint of affection, ducking out of the room at top speed. They tore through a window and caught a breeze out of there. Ozzy stayed nestled into the virus's body, feeling wanted for the first time ever. He didn't care where they went, who they met, who Thrax killed or whatever he did. Ozzy just wanted to go along for the ride and watch the world burn, because in the end, he just wanted to be with Thrax.


End file.
